2004-07-12 - 1:39 a.m. - the closing door

I dedicate this entry to Guy - my favorite d-lander whose life seems a bit parallel to mine right now...

I used to rent a room in a craftsmen-style house that had a massive front door – so big that I remember more than one person commenting on its size. When wide open, it was not the type of door you could shut really quickly since it had to complete quite an arc before coming to a close. And that door best describes my life right now; I feel as if I’m walking in front of this massive door, slowly closing on what is known before stepping out into the unknown.

It started about a month ago at the end of school as some students bid me farewell and wished me luck in Venezuela. There were no tears because it had been a rough year for me and I’m really ready for a change, at least, I think I am… At our staff luncheon where people who are leaving or retiring are recognized for their service, my department members each gave me a box of brownie mix with a note attached that included their birth date. Since I took it upon myself to bake for everyone’s birthday, they wanted to make sure the tradition continued, so they even included a FedEx box. It was very amusing and thoughtful – especially as my department head announced all the things he’d miss about me. Still, no tears. Not until about five days after school was over when I was STILL there cleaning out my files and finally said goodbye to one of my co-workers who happened to be there that day, then there was the lump in my throat and the moist eyes. It’s starting to become real – the door is starting to close and there’s no turning back.

I spent the last two weeks with my family in RI. I was completely exhausted initially but felt well rested by the end. On my second full day there I read "The Secret Life of Bees" which brought tears to my eyes. The beautifully, poetically-written story so aptly describes the girl’s longing for her mom – a feeling familiar to me but different in that mine is not for a mother but for a partner in this life. The emotion always comes to the surface as I’m around my siblings’ families – especially when my youngest niece who is 3 years old asks, "Do you have any kids? Where is your family?" She and her two sisters came up with the idea that my sister and brother-in-law move out to Oregon with me and we all live together. That way all the kids would have a parent to themselves, and the parents would rotate every day of the week so that each kid would be with each parent twice a week. On Sundays the kids would take care of the parents. Intriguing idea….

The other thing that struck me about the book was of course the community of women – something I am fortunate to have where I live, but which I am in the process of saying good-bye to. Will I be able to create a new community where there’s presently a language barrier? I really have to learn Spanish….

My sister and brother-in-law threw me a wonderful going-away party, complete with decorations the colors of the Venezuelan flag. With everyone asking me questions about my adventure, it made it seem more real. I’ve really started the closing of the door behind me, and there’s no turning back.

I must add that the OUTDOOR party started at 2:00 p.m. and at precisely 2:01 p.m. the thunder and lightening began. So we moved it indoors briefly as one storm cell passed. We were back out under the 20’x20’ tent that my brother was able to get for us when the next storm cell came. This time we were pelted with hail the size of walnuts and a downpour that ended up flooding the tent since the ground couldn’t absorb the water fast enough. A U2 song (I think it’s called "Drowning Man") comes to mind…"this storm will pass, it won’t be long now, this love will last forever..."

And the storm did pass. We had a conga line at one point with ages 3 – 42 participating (myself included), a piñata, a fruit salad that was presented as a bouquet of flowers (gorgeous and delicious), lots of other great food, fine wine and best of all, wonderful people. My best friend from CT drove up with her family, and a few other high school friends showed up as well. My whole extended family was there as well as my siblings’ in-laws - I felt very blessed to have so many people take the time to celebrate my next adventure. I’ve never been married, but I got a brief glimpse of what it’s like to be the guest of honor and have to make sure you get around to visit with everyone. While it’s both fun and exhausting, I’ve decided if I ever go the wedding route, I’m going to have a very, very, very small affair. Either that or it’s going to have to be three days long, there’s just no other way to do it.

But given I don’t see my friends back East more than once a year (if that) anyway, the good byes and well wishes brought no tears but only happiness of the memories we had just created.

I usually see my family twice a year. For some people, that would be two times too many, but for me, I love my family – we get along great. And now I may not see them for a year – maybe a year and a half. My mom said she’s definitely coming to visit me, but my dad isn’t much of a traveler. And my siblings won’t be able to manage it given they have kids and all – it’s just too big of a trip.

I managed to say good-bye to my brother and sister-in-law and my 6 year old niece with some verklempness but not a total break-down. We’re really not big criers in our family – at least not in public (even if it is only family). But when my sisters’ three girls each gave me a long hard hug, and then my sister, with me in her arms, started saying how’d we’d be in touch with email and regular mail and that a year would go by so quickly, the tears and sobbing came as the tears come even now.

How will I not miss my youngest niece begging me to sleep over, and when I do and lie next to her, she won’t let me fall asleep because she keeps prying my eyes open with her fingers and sending me into fits of laughter. Or having staring contests with my middle niece to see which one of us will crack first. And then there’s the thrill of reading Harry Potter with my oldest niece – she reads the one page aloud and then I read the next. And this kid is only 7 years old! And of course, playing school with my fourth niece – my brother’s 6 year old daughter. She’s the teacher and I’m the pupil. We do Spanish and I get in "trouble" for lifting the 5 pound weights that are lying near by. "We’re not in gym class!" she says.

‘Then we’re in gym class (same room as the Spanish class) and I get in "trouble" again for counting our reps with the weights in Spanish. And then we took naps – even the teacher. I want to teach at her school!

When it comes time to take me to the airport, my dad says it’s his least favorite thing to do. And we cry every time – my mom, my dad and me. I love them all so much.

The door seems to be pushing me with more momentum these days as my departure date drawers nearer. There will be many more farewells and many more tears.

I just saw the movie (on video) , "The Legend of 1900" – a beautifully story and very moving. It made me think of what it was like to arrive in a new country – to leave your home for new lands. We’re all immigrants in a way – immigrants on this planet – souls passing by and landing in bodies for a while and setting up homes. Some are content to stay in one place their whole time here while others, like myself, have it in their being to explore this planet, even if it means you’ll be away from those you love for a while.

I don’t know why I am this way, I just am.

The main character in the movie never leaves the ship he was born on – he just plays amazing piano music – jazz mostly, and he can look at a person and create a song that just fits them. As I was crying at the end of the movie, my friend said, think of 1900 not as a character but as a song, and the song doesn’t die but is carried within each passenger that left the ship.

Well if there’s a song created especially for each one of us and lies within, it’s our job to sing it out in this life. Some sing the blues, some are pure rock ‘n roll. Right now, I’m humming Scott Joplin’s "Solace" – comfort in sorrow as the big door behind me continues to close.

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the holding back the the flow of tears - 2005-02-20
song survey - 2005-02-15
song for the day...or perhaps the year... - 2005-01-25
something new - 2005-01-24
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